


Firework

by eternaleponine



Series: From the Mouths of Babes [12]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Foster Care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Immediately following the events ofLove In A Hopeless Place, Luna have to decide what they want their futures to look like, and how to make those visions a reality.





	1. Chapter 1

Luna stared out the window, watching tree-lined suburban streets give way to a row of shops, and then they were on the highway and it was just billboards and warehouses and self-storage places whizzing by, and she let her eyes drift almost-closed and reached up to touch the crescent moon that rested in the hollow of her throat. She could still feel the brush of Lexa's fingers against the back of her neck as she fastened the clasp, still feel her arms around her, holding tight, still feel the warmth of her saturating the space between them in the narrow bed they'd shared, and all the places their bodies had pressed against each other, intentionally or un. She could still feel all of it, and she clung to that as the miles piled up between them with each passing minute.

"Do you want to talk now or later?" Rosie asked. Of all the people who worked at the group home where Luna lived, she was glad it was Rosie who had come to get her. If anyone could understand, or at least try to understand, why Luna had done what she'd done, why she'd had to do it, it was Rosie. In Luna's time at the house, Rosie had always tried to understand where they were coming from, even as she challenged them to be and do better than their pasts might have led them to believe they could. As long as they treated her with respect, she showed them the same... and often even when they didn't. She didn't see things as black and white like some of the staff did; she was willing to entertain the possibility that sometimes – even most of the time – they existed in the fuzzy gray area in between. 

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Luna asked, the point of the crescent moon digging into her fingertips as they clenched around it. 

"No," Rosie said. "If you need some time and space, that's all right. But we _are_ going to talk at some point."

It wasn't a threat, just a fact. 

Luna pressed her lips together. "Are you going to send me away?" she asked. "If you're just going to send me away—"

"That depends on you, Luna," Rosie said, her eyes flicking to Luna where she slumped in the passenger's seat before going back to the road. "You know that."

Luna shrugged. "Do I?" she asked. "I'm not sorry."

"All right," Rosie said. "What are you not sorry about?"

"Leaving," Luna said. 

"Why not?"

"Because I needed to do this," Luna said. "I needed to see her."

As soon as she'd seen the interview and the pictures of Clarke's art piece, as soon as she heard the recording of the poem – was it a poem? She didn't know what else to call it – in a voice that was older, more mature, than when she'd last heard it, but still unmistakable, she'd known this day would come. She'd known she would find Lexa, and that nothing and no one would stop her from seeing her again except Lexa herself. If Lexa had said no... but she hadn't. She'd said yes, over and over again, in word and in deed...

"Who is she?" Rosie asked. "Why was seeing her so important?"

Luna looked at her, her eyebrows drawing together as her forehead furrowed. She hadn't talked to Rosie yesterday, and had been sparing in the details she'd given to the staff member she _had_ spoken to, saying only that she'd gone to see 'an old friend'. She guessed Lexa's foster – no, adoptive – mother hadn't said anything either. 

She searched for a way to answer that would properly convey the gravity of who Lexa was, who she had always been, who she would always be in some ways, no matter who else came into their lives, and finally told Rosie, "She's my heart."

Rosie glanced at her again, and if they'd been sitting face to face, Luna knew she would be fixed in the crosshairs of Rosie's gaze, which was enough to make some girls squirm, but not Luna. Not outwardly, anyway. She was good at keeping quiet, not letting anything show. She had the scars to prove it. 

Minutes and miles went by, and the silence was dense and heavy, palpable but not oppressive. A few times Luna thought she might say something, but the words never made it to her tongue. She twisted the chain of her necklace around her finger until the tip turned purple, then released it, letting the blood flow back where it belonged. 

"I'd love to hear more about her," Rosie said finally, as they passed a sign that told them they were sixty miles – an hour, more or less – from home. 

_Not home,_ Luna told herself. _Just a house. Just a place where you live, until you're sent along to the next place._ Because she'd seen homes now, felt them, and knew that she'd never had one before, and probably never would, unless maybe when she was older she managed to build one for herself.

"We grew up together," Luna said. "She's been in my life for as long as I can remember." It was hard to put timestamps on her earliest memories, or to know what order they happened in, but her memories of Lexa existed as far back as, and alongside, her memories of Sol. "Until it all fell apart." Rosie nodded; Luna had talked a little about her early childhood, and she knew it was all in her file anyway. "Her girlfriend – Lexa's girlfriend, her name is Lexa, her girlfriend is Clarke – did an art project based on a poem Lexa wrote about it, about..." She reached around to touch her left shoulder. "And some news channel did an interview with her. That's how I found her. Once I did... I had to see her. I had to know she was okay. Or if she wasn't, I had to know that too, and if she wasn't I had to—" Luna stopped herself, because even though she thought maybe Rosie was on her side, at least a little, she still knew that the less she said, the better. 

_Don't give a potential enemy ammo they can use against you later._

"It seems like she's doing all right," Rosie said. "I talked to her mom a little bit; she seems like a real nice lady. One of the good ones."

"She is," Luna said. "Lexa says she is." 

"So you know she's okay," Rosie said. "What happens now?"

"You tell me," Luna said, untwisting the chain from around her finger again because it was starting to pinch her neck and she didn't want to break it. 

Rosie looked at her. "What do you want to happen?"

Luna shrugged. She didn't know. Now that she knew Lexa was okay, that she was safe and happy, that she had everything Luna could have wished for her, the kind of life that people had on TV... she didn't know. She'd never thought much about herself and what she wanted. At first it hadn't matter, and then she'd been too busy taking care of Sol, and then thinking about Lexa. Now that the i's had been dotted and the t's had been crossed, she didn't know what came next. 

When it became clear that she wasn't going to answer, Rosie sighed. "Okay, different question," she said. "Why didn't you ask?"

_Because you would have said no,_ Luna thought, but she didn't say it, because she knew how Rosie would respond. 'You don't know that. The only way to know the answer to a question is to ask it.' 

"Easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission," Luna said. 

"Is it?" Rosie countered. "Is this easier than coming to me and saying, 'I have a friend I haven't seen in years that I just found a way to reconnect with, she lives pretty close, is there a way I can see her?'"

"Yes," Luna said, immediate, intense. 

Rosie sighed again. "Why is this easier?" she asked. 

"You can't say no," Luna said. "Whatever you decide to do with me, at least I'll have seen her. At least I'll have that. That's what matters." _That's all that matters._

"And that's worth risking your place in the house for?" Rosie asked. 

"Yes," Luna said.

Rosie pulled abruptly off the highway, and Luna's heart clenched. Rosie wasn't prone to fits of emotion, and Luna couldn't read her face to know if she'd pissed her off, or if she just needed a bathroom break. Too much coffee, maybe. She turned at the end of the ramp, and a few minutes later, pulled into the parking lot of an ice cream stand that was just opening for the day. "Come on," she said. 

Luna climbed out of the car cautiously, following her up to the window. "I just ate," she said, hugging herself against the breeze that blew even though it was far from cold. 

"There's always room for dessert," Rosie said, flashing her a grin and patting her ample stomach. "Order whatever you want." 

Luna narrowed her eyes as she scanned the menu, as if she would find a clue to the trap that was being laid if she read it closely enough. She heard Rosie order, and then a pause while the teenager behind the counter waited for her. 

"This isn't a trick," Rosie said. "I promise. Whatever you want."

Luna bit the inside of her cheek, then ordered a sundae with too many toppings, the sort of sundae she and Lexa would whisper about pressed close together on summer nights, protected from whatever else lived out there in the woods by a thin nylon dome, and sometimes not even that. When it was handed over, she felt a pang because Lexa wasn't here to share it with... not that they'd ever had the chance to partake in one of their sugar-coma-inducing daydreams before, either. 

"Can I have my phone?" Luna asked. It had been confiscated the minute they got in the car. Rosie gave her a look, and Luna sighed. "Fine. Can you take a picture then?"

Rosie raised her eyebrows, but snapped a picture of the sundae, and then one of Luna with it, before tucking Luna's phone away again. The ice cream stand bordered a nearby park, and they wandered into it, finding a bench and sitting down. 

"I wish you'd asked," Rosie said after they'd had a few bites. "I know you think this is easier, but it puts us in a bad position. It puts _me_ in a bad position. You know we have a pretty low tolerance for girls going AWOL."

Officially, the rule was zero-tolerance, but there were always exceptions for extenuating circumstances, and they all knew it, and tried not to abuse it. Those that did found themselves placed elsewhere. Luna just hoped that her circumstances would be considered extenuating enough to be given a second chance, considering this was pretty much the last shot she had. 

"I was the one who recommended you for the program, you know," Rosie said. "There were a lot of doubts about whether you could be successful after everything you'd been through, but I convinced everyone that you could be, if we just gave you the chance." 

"And I blew it," Luna said. She picked an M&M from the top of the sundae and popped it into her mouth. 

"You jeopardized it," Rosie said. "There's still a chance, but if you'd just—" She stopped, because one of the things she was always telling the girls was that they couldn't change the past – not what they'd done, and not what had been done to them. They could only make better choices in and for the future. Harping on what Luna should have done was just wasted breath. 

"Would it have been better if I'd asked and they said no and I did it anyway? Because I would have." 

Rosie's shoulders dropped. "No, I don't think that would have been better," she admitted.

"See? So this way is easier." Luna took another bite of her sundae, which ended up being mostly hot fudge. She found a chunk of chopped up Snickers and ate that next, remembering when someone had given the kids a bowl of leftover Halloween candy and they'd all scrabbled and fought for it, hiding and hoarding it. She and Lexa had pooled theirs together, sharing each tiny bar until they got down to the last one – a Snickers – and had fought over who got the last bite. Not because they wanted it for themselves, but because they wanted the other to have it. Luna had won that battle and had sported the bruises Lexa had given her in the process proudly. 

Rosie shook her head, not so much negation as resignation. "I'm going to keep fighting for you, Luna. I want you to know that. But I'm not going to make you any promises that I don't know I can keep."

"I don't expect you to," Luna said. "I knew there would be consequences."

"I also want you to start thinking about what you want for the future," Rosie said. "Even if you get to stay... this program isn't meant to be long-term. It's meant to help you transition from one place to another, whether it's from a group home to a family setting, from foster care to independent living... it's an in-between place, not a final destination."

Luna stared at her ice cream, which was starting to melt. She spooned up a dripping glob and put it in her mouth, and it was too much, too sweet, and hard to swallow with the lump that had formed in her throat. She blinked hard to keep back the tears that pricked her eyes, not looking up until they had disappeared back to where they'd come from. "Why does it matter?" she asked, her voice husky and raw. "It's never mattered what I want before. Why start now?"

"Because you've got your entire life ahead of you," Rosie said. "Don't you want to be the one calling the shots in it?"

Luna didn't answer. It was such a foreign concept, being the captain of her own fate, like in that poem she'd read once, the master of her own soul. A seed had been planted, but she hesitated to let it take root, because what she wanted... what she wanted was impossible. She stabbed her spoon into her ice cream, eating the last few bites, scraping the dish until there was nothing left. 

"Ready?" Rosie asked when she came back from dumping it in the trash. 

_No,_ Luna thought, but nodded anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**To:** outofthewoods@email.com  
 **From:** moonH20@email.com  
 **Subject:** It could have been worse

I don't have much time – they're giving me five minutes to email you to let you know I got back safe. 

They're letting me stay, at least for now. Basically grounded for two weeks, no phone, no internet, and if I break a single rule I'll probably be packing up and going back to lockup, or close enough to it, but at least I've got a chance. 

Even if I didn't, it would be worth it. I will never regret, no matter what happens, seeing you again. 

And hey, I got ice cream on the way back. You remember how we used to talk about it when it got so hot in the summer we could hardly stand it? 

Tell Clarke hi for me, and Anya. 

Talk to you when I can.

Love,  
Luna

* * *

Lexa laughed at the picture of Luna with her sundae that was so drowned in toppings the ice cream almost disappeared beneath them, then nudged Clarke and passed her phone over so she could read the email, too.

Clarke scanned the words quickly, her own lips quirking at the image, and handed the phone back, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder. "I'm glad she's okay," she said. "Being grounded sucks, but..."

"But it's better than being sent... wherever they would send her," Lexa finished for her. "Yeah."

"Ice cream sounds really good right now, actually," Clarke said. "What do you think?"

"Ice cream _always_ sounds good," Lexa said. "Do you think they'll let us walk?"

"They did last summer," Clarke said. 

She had a point, but even though neither of them had gotten in trouble, per se, Lexa suspected that after things had gone not quite according to plan the day before, their parents might keep a closer eye on them for the next little while, and keep them both on a tighter leash. Probably better for them to consider themselves semi-grounded, too, to ask permission for things they might previously have assumed were okay, and to check in regularly so Miss Becca and the Griffins were never left wondering about their whereabouts. If their behavior was beyond reproach for the next few weeks, when Luna _was_ freed from her punishment, there was a better chance that they would get to see each other again. 

"We should probably ask anyway," Lexa said. Clarke shrugged, but once they were back on the ground she headed for the house to find one of her parents while Lexa crossed the street, heading straight for the back yard where she could hear the littles shouting as they ran in circles, playing a game that, as far as Lexa knew, had no established rules until someone decided someone else had broken one. 

Miss Becca – Mom – was on the back porch, watching them with one eye and reading a book with the other, or at least that's how it seemed to work. She looked up as Lexa approached, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. "Hey you," she said. "What's up?"

"Luna's okay," she blurted. "Grounded, but okay."

"I'm glad to hear that," Miss Becca said, looking genuinely relieved. "And grounded seems fair, all things considered." 

Lexa nodded. "Two weeks." Her teeth scraped the inside of her cheek. "Do you think maybe she could come visit again after that?"

"I don't see why not," Miss Becca said. "As long as it's all right with the staff where she's living, and you know I'm going to triple check." 

"I know," Lexa said. "I swear I didn't know before."

"I know," Miss Becca said. "It's all right. Everything worked out, and I'm glad you got to see her. I'm glad that you can finally get some closure on that part of your life." She pursed her lips. "Or maybe not closure. I don't know." She smiled again. "Maybe you can invite her to the Fourth of July picnic," she said. "I'm sure she would be welcome." 

Lexa wasn't quite as sure; it was the Griffins' party, and the entire neighborhood was invited, but Dr. Abby had seemed pretty pissed the day before. Even so, she nodded. She would ask Clarke about it, see what she thought, and they would go from there. 

Which reminded her of what she had really come over to ask. "Can we go get ice cream?" she asked. "Clarke and I?"

"Shh," Miss Becca hissed, but thankfully the littles hadn't heard her over their own clamor. She laughed. "Go ahead, but don't let them see it. If you do, you'd better have enough to share." 

Lexa smiled. "I won't," she said. "Thanks... Mom." She jumped off the edge of the deck (which she wasn't supposed to do) and darted around the side of the house and back toward Clarke's. Some day she might be able to use that word without running away afterward... but today was not that day, and tomorrow probably wouldn't be either.

* * *

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Clarke asked. Her fingers brushed the back of Lexa's shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. 

Lexa nodded, turning her head to face Clarke. There was no point in denying it; her thoughts drifted to Luna more often than not in the days since she'd left, unless she was actively doing something else that didn't allow space for the thoughts to creep in. "I guess I just thought..." She sighed, shrugged. "Maybe she doesn't even remember."

They hadn't made a fuss about birthdays in their community, except for their tenth, but she'd thought maybe that would be enough to make the date stick in Luna's head, and that maybe the people where she lived would make an exception, just one call, or email, or text... but there had been nothing. Lexa had tried not to let it bother her – a punishment was a punishment, after all – but every time she checked her phone and found nothing, it had drained a little more of the color from the day, and sixteen wasn't starting out so sweet after all.

_Except this,_ she thought, as Clarke nuzzled against her cheek, rubbing their noses together before kissing her softly, silky skin gliding against Lexa's beneath the sheets, and nothing between them, nothing to keep her from...

Her phone buzzed, rattling against the nightstand, and they jerked apart as if someone had barged into the room, then laughed at themselves as Lexa fumbled to check the screen. If it was Anya...

Her heart leapt when she saw the image on the screen; she'd added the picture of Luna and her sundae to her contact so it would pop up when she called. She quickly slid her finger across it to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Happy birthday," Luna said. "I'm sorry it's late, and I only have a few minutes, but—"

"Don't be sorry," Lexa said. "I'm glad you called." 

Clarke burrowed against her side, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder, and Lexa combed her fingers through Clarke's hair absently. "Hi Luna," Clarke said. 

Luna laughed. "Hi Clarke," she said. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Lexa rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back her grin. "You're not," she said. "If you'd called ten minutes ago..."

"You know they're listening to this, right?" Luna asked. 

Lexa smile collapsed, and her voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Shit. Really?"

"No, not really," Luna said. "I shouldn't have said that. It's not funny." There was a pause, and then she said softly, "Do you think we'll ever not react like they taught us to? Do you think we'll ever be able to joke about stuff like that without some little part of us thinking, 'Okay, but what if they were right all along?'"

"I don't know," Lexa said. "Maybe when we've been out of it longer than when we were in it?"

"Maybe," Luna said. "Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday. And to tell you you should be proud of me, because when I asked earlier and they said no, I didn't tell them where they could shove their rules. I've been so good, you wouldn't believe." 

Lexa could hear the hint of a smile back in her voice. Luna hadn't been a troublemaker, exactly, but she hadn't always been keen on following the rules when they didn't suit her, and she'd always had a bit of a temper. Sometimes Lexa had been able to talk her down when she got herself worked up... and sometimes she'd just revved up right along with her, and when it was the two of them against everyone else – even The Man – they were nigh unstoppable. 

"You were good at playing the game when it suited you," Lexa said. "When it mattered."

"I guess I was," Luna said. 

"Ask her about the Fourth," Clarke prodded, her chin digging into Lexa's collarbone as she looked up. "The two weeks will be over by then."

Lexa nodded, planting a quick kiss to Clarke's forehead. "Are you doing anything on the Fourth?" she asked. "The Griffins – Clarke's family – always have a huge party, and we'd love it if you could come. Miss Becca – my mom – said she can talk to the people there if she needs to. She said she would be responsible for you, and you could stay over again. If you want. I'm sure Mr. Jake will talk to them too, if they need to." 

Clarke nodded and gave a thumbs up, and Lexa laughed softly. 

"I'll have to ask," Luna said, "but I'd like to." 

"Let me know," Lexa said. 

Silence from Luna's end, then, "I've gotta go. But I'll talk to you soon, or text you, as soon as I get my phone back. I'll let you know about the party."

"That's usually when we celebrate my birthday, too," Lexa said, "if that helps convince them."

"I'll make sure to tell them that," Luna said. "The icing on the cake, as it were."

"Ha. Ha," Lexa said, her tone flat. "So punny."

"I'm hilarious and you know it," Luna said. "But I really have to go. Happy birthday, Lexa."

"Thank you," Lexa said, but she wasn't sure Luna heard it because her phone beeped before she'd even closed her mouth, signaling the end of the call.

"Is she going to come?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa shrugged. "She'll ask. But I know someone who definitely will be..."

"Ha. Ha," Clarke said, imitating her even as Lexa disappeared beneath the sheets. "So puhhh... ah!"

Lexa looked up at her, smirking at Clarke's slack jaw and blown pupils. "That's what I thought," she said.

* * *

"You call to check in no later than nine o'clock," Rosie said, her face fixed in a frown that didn't suit her, "and I'll be back at ten tomorrow to pick you up. Understand?"

"I understand," Luna said, grabbing the bag she'd stuffed at her feet. 

"Be prepared for whoever you talk to want to speak to Ms. Adams, too," Rosie warned her. "You did great these past two weeks, but you know that you're still on probation. If you give them any reason to think you're not where you're supposed to be..." 

"I know," Luna said. "You've only said it a million times."

"I'm on your side, Luna," Rosie said. "Remember that."

"You've said that a million times too," Luna grumbled as she got out of the car. She'd said it enough times that Luna even almost mostly believed it. "I'll see you tomorrow at ten."

"Have a good time," Rosie said. "Call if you need anything."

The door of Lexa's house opened, and Lexa stepped out onto the porch, followed by her mother, who waved to Rosie and held up a finger before shooing the younger kids back inside and walking over to the car. Lexa smiled crookedly, then extended her hands, arms out just a little, and Luna hopped up the porch steps and pulled her into a hug, feeling the tension she'd been holding since Rosie had gotten the staff to agree to let her come melt away. She'd been expecting something to come up, or for them to decide she'd said or done something wrong and yank the one thing she had to hold on to back out of her grasp, but now she was here, and it was okay.

"You want to put your bag upstairs?" Lexa asked. "We can go over to Clarke's whenever. Mr. Jake will find things for us to do, trust me." 

"Why do you call him Mr. Jake?" Luna asked as they climbed the stairs. Luna could feel the eyes of the little ones boring into her back, and she turned and wiggled her fingers at them in a wave. One of them hid, and the other's face split into a grin, and he waved enthusiastically back. 

Lexa shrugged. "Habit, I guess," she said. "When I first got here, it was to show respect. They didn't like it when I called them 'sir' and 'ma'am', or Mr. and Dr. Griffin, really... so I went with Mr. Jake and Dr. Abby. It stuck." She pushed open the door to her room and Luna followed her in, setting her bag on the bed she'd slept in the last time, which was still as carefully made as she'd left it. "I still call my mother Miss Becca most of the time," Lexa added. "Any time I call her Mom I run away a second later."

Luna looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Literally?"

"Yes!" Lexa tried to glare, but she couldn't hold back a sheepish smile. "It's awkward!" 

"You're ridiculous," Luna said, pulling her into another hug. "You know that, right?"

"I know," Lexa grumbled. She rolled her eyes at herself. "It's not like we grew up with that word just rolling off our tongues, y'know? And it's been years of calling her Miss Becca. It's not just going to change overnight. I don't think she minds." She kept one arm around Luna's waist. "Come on. Let's get out of here before the kids realize you're not the scary monster I told them you were and you're not going to eat them for breakfast." 

"Seriously?" Luna asked. 

Lexa shrugged, smiling her, 'I'll never tell,' smile, and led her downstairs and back outside.

At the Griffins' door, she hesitated for a second, then just tugged open the screen and went inside. "We're here," she called, and slipped off her sandals, adding them to the jumble of shoes at the entrance. 

Clarke popped her head into the hallway. "In the kitchen," she said, around a mouthful of something that she was probably supposed to be cutting up. 'Quality control,' she called it. 'A pain in my ass,' Mr. Jake called it, but he always winked when he said it. 

They went into the kitchen, and Clarke hugged first Lexa, then Luna, as if they'd been friends forever and hugging was something totally natural and normal that they did all the time. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't make a big deal about it, but it actually _did_ feel natural and normal, and Luna found herself smiling even as Mr. Jake started doling out tasks to them, chopping and mixing and arranging. 

Conversation revolved mainly around what they were doing, and Luna was glad to not be forced into the spotlight with awkward questions about where she lived and what it was like there and what her plans for the summer were. By the time they were finished – or as finished as they were going to be, it seemed like food prep was likely going to be an ongoing task as the party progressed – people were starting to arrive, milling around the back yard and picking at the veggies and chips and other snacks they'd already set out. 

Luna discovered it was easy to blend in. The entire neighborhood was there, along with family and friends, and family friends, and friends of friends, and people probably assumed she was one of Clarke's friends from school and that was fine with her. Anya arrived with her roommate (slash girlfriend?) in tow, and Clarke's friend Octavia and her brother Bellamy came from down the street, and Luna thought she caught a few sidelong glances, but no one said anything to her, so she just let them wonder. 

People came and went, bringing their own favorite dishes to add to the tables that had been set up, which were so full they looked like they might collapse under the weight. Mr. Jake took turns with a few others manning the grill. Even Murphy got a turn, with his girlfriend nearby jeering at him when he accidentally lit a hot dog on fire even with Mr. Jake's close supervision. 

As the sun started to set, Luna checked her phone and saw that it was past eight. She stepped away from the thinning crowd, walking toward the front of the house where it was quieter to call and check in. It was one of the younger (and newer) staff members who answered, and Luna was grateful that she took her at her word that she was where she was supposed to be, because Miss Becca had gone home to start settling the younger kids for the night. According to Lexa, breaking their routine could spell disaster, and she didn't want to disrupt it. She had just tucked her phone back in her pocket when there was a loud POP just behind her, and she instantly dropped into a crouch. Another POP, followed by several more, and she flattened herself against the ground, scrabbling around to see where the sound was coming from. 

_First, locate the threat._

She couldn't see anything. There were too many cars, too many places for people to hide, too many...

_Then neutralize it._

But she didn't have any weapons. She had no way to fight back, except with her fists, and—

"You assholes! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Anya stormed past her, and a second later she had two boys by the backs of their shirts, their eyes wide and guilty. "Where are your parents, huh?" She shook them, and one of them pointed a shaking finger toward the back yard. "Let's go find them, see what they have to say about you thinking it's a good idea to scare the shit out of people and probably almost blow your damn fingers off." 

Luna flinched and scrambled away when a hand landed on her back, and Raven backed away with her hands up. "Okay, okay, sorry," she said. "I just... are you okay?"

"Fine," Luna said, brushing herself off. "Where's Lexa?"

"In the back," Raven said. "She kind of freaked too. Are you sure you're all right?"

Luna hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line, then shook her head, just a little. "I thought it was gunshots," she said. "I thought—" She swallowed hard. "I just want to see Lexa." 

"This way," Raven said, motioning for Luna to follow her. "Stupid kids," she said. "Anya will make sure they regret ever putting a match to those fuses." 

"How?" she asked, memories of the kinds of punishments she and Lexa had been subjected to rising all too readily to the surface. 

"She won't hurt them," Raven said. "She'll just make them feel about _this_ big." She held her fingers about a millimeter apart. "Lexa's right over..." Her voice trailed off, until Octavia pointed up, and Luna followed her finger to see Clarke and Lexa leaned on the railing around the treehouse platform, Lexa using the increased altitude to scan the area for threats. Luna climbed up without prompting, joining them, wedging herself against Lexa's side close enough that she could feel her breathing and the pulse beneath her skin, as frantic as her own.

It took a long time for either of them to return to normal.


	3. Chapter 3

"Clarke?" 

Clarke peered over the railing to where her father was standing in the yard. He waved when she looked down, beckoning her to join him back on the ground. "Be right back," she said to Lexa, who nodded absently. Her eyes weren't frantically darting around anymore, searching for threats that didn't exist, but she was still keyed up, ready for action in a way that Clarke hadn't seen her since they were children.

She climbed down the ladder and jogged over to her father. "What's up?" she asked, trying to make her voice light, like nothing was wrong – because nothing _was_ wrong, technically – even when she felt ready to leap out of her own skin just from being in close proximity to Lexa and Luna. 

"I was going to see if you all wanted to go see the fireworks," he said, "but I'm guessing that's a no?" His eyes flicked up to the two pale faces still up the tree. 

"Yeah, no," Clarke said. "I don't think that would be a great idea." She felt a pang of regret, because it was something that she and her father had done together for years. They could go, just the two of them, and send Lexa and Luna home, but it didn't feel right. 

"The ones on TV are better anyway," her father said, reaching out to ruffle her hair before she could duck away. "No matter where you are, you've got the best seat in the house." He looked up again. "They're welcome to join, if they don't have to get home."

"I don't know," Clarke said. "I can ask." She started to head back to the treehouse, then stopped. "Do we have any ice cream?" 

"Of course," Jake said. 

"And chocolate and caramel sauce and stuff? Candy?"

"I think so," he said, his eyebrows drawing together. "Why?"

"Just an idea," Clarke said. "Something that might make them feel better."

A smile slid across his face. "Count me in, then," he said. "I'll go see what I can find."

Clarke hugged him, quick and tight, then clambered back up to where they'd been watching the party slowly dissipate. It was down to a few stragglers now, including Anya, who was probably waiting for Lexa but knew better than to rush her. "Do you have to go home right away?" Clarke asked, taking her place next to Lexa, careful not to touch her until she was sure Lexa had seen and heard her. 

Lexa pulled her phone from her pocket and glanced at the screen. "I should at least text," she said. "Why?"

"Dad thought maybe you'd like to join us for watching fireworks," Clarke said. "On TV," she added hastily. "We decided we'd had enough excitement for one day and wanted to just relax and chill... maybe have some ice cream." She wasn't sure, but she thought Luna might have perked up a little at the end.

Lexa looked over at her, and Luna nodded, so she tapped out a text to Miss Becca, asking if it was all right, and got a response back a minute later saying it was fine, but they needed to be home before midnight.

"Cool," Clarke said. She climbed back down the tree, wishing her father hadn't nixed the idea of a fireman's pole all those years ago, and headed for the house. Lexa detoured to say goodbye to Anya, Luna in tow, and as soon as Clarke stepped inside her mom dragged her into helping with the last of the clean-up. When Lexa and Luna rejoined them, there were over-the-top sundaes to construct, and they just barely made it to the couch before the first of the brilliantly colored explosions lit up the screen. 

By the time the last of the fireworks flickered and fizzled out, their stomachs were groaning, and they had skipped right over giddiness and straight into sugar comas. Lexa slumped against her, and Clarke wound her arms around her and pulled her close. "I wish you didn't have to go," she said. 

"Me too," Lexa said. "But—"

"I know," Clarke told her. "I just wish—" An idea popped into her head, and she quickly extricated herself from under and around Lexa and went to talk with her parents, who were in the kitchen putting the ice cream dishes in the dishwasher. "Can we sleep in the treehouse?" she asked. 

Her mother's face immediately creased with concern, and her father looked dubious as well. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" he asked. 

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think it was a good idea," Clarke said. "Think about it: last time Lexa freaked out this bad, where did she go?" Lexa had told her the story years ago – but also years after it happened – of the winter night she she'd held a knife on Clarke's father. "They get the high ground; anything that might hurt them, they can see coming."

"Is it really in their best interest to indulge these sorts of..." Her mother's lips pressed into a thin line. "Delusions isn't the right word, but..."

"It's PTSD, Mom," Clarke said. "You're the one who told me that. Isn't making them feel safe what's important?"

She sighed. "I don't know, Clarke. Becca is responsible for them, not us, and—"

"And what trouble are they going to get into?" her father interjected. "They're already half asleep." He looked at Clarke. "They'll have to get Becca's permission, of course."

"Of course," Clarke said. She went back into the living room before her mother had a chance to talk her father out of it and asked if they wanted to have a sleepover in the treehouse. 

"I don't think she'll say yes," Lexa said, but texted Miss Becca anyway. To their surprise, she agreed, and they headed across the street to get Luna's things (Lexa had enough stuff at Clarke's house that it wasn't an issue). By the time they had gotten through their nighttime routines, the air mattress had been blown up and hauled up to the treehouse, and they threw their sleeping bags down on it. It was a squeeze with three of them, but after a little squirming around to find a comfortable position and a quick (but not too quick) kiss, Clarke closed her eyes and was out.

* * *

Lexa woke with the sun, Luna's hair tickling her nose and Clarke's breath warm on the back of her neck. She swallowed a laugh and slowly shifted until the urge to squirm out from between the two of them abated. Clarke stirred, and when Lexa turned her head, she found herself eye-to-eye and nose-to-nose with her girlfriend.

"Good morning, Clarke," she whispered. 

"Morning," Clarke answered, pressing her face into Lexa's shoulder as she yawned, then tipping it up for a kiss. "Did you sleep okay?" She looked past Lexa to Luna, who showed no signs of waking. 

Lexa nodded, answering for both of them, although she guessed it was possible Luna had been feigning sleep when Lexa drifted off the night before. "You?"

"Yeah." Clarke's hand found hers under the blanket, but not before accidentally finding her thigh and sending goosebumps racing along her skin. She smirked at Lexa's blush. "Sorry," she whispered, but Lexa knew she wasn't. Not really. On any other morning, Lexa might have retaliated, but no matter how deeply asleep Luna seemed to be, getting caught fooling around with Clarke while she was _right there_ was not something Lexa wanted to have to live down. She settled for pressing her lips to the place where Clarke's pulse beat in her wrist, which was enough to make Clarke bite her lip and scowl, which was revenge enough for now.

They just looked at each other for a moment until their hearts (and hormones) had ramped back down, and Lexa's thoughts started to drift from the immediacy of Clarke and this moment to what came next, in just a few hours, and she squeezed Clarke's hand tighter without thinking about it. Holding on to what she had, what she knew she got to keep, she guessed.

"What's wrong?" Clarke asked. 

"I don't want her to go," Lexa said. "I know where she is isn't _bad_ , but..." She lifted a shoulder, let it fall. "What if they change their mind? She said it's not a permanent placement. Eventually she'll have to go somewhere else, and—"

"Why not here?" Clarke asked, then frowned. "I know. It's not that simple."

"Nothing is ever that simple," Lexa said. 

But she'd thought it too. Last time Luna had visited, Lexa had started to say the same thing to her, and Luna had stopped her. She hadn't wanted to hear it, and Lexa wondered if it was because she didn't want to... or because she did. 

"But is it impossible?" Clarke asked. 

"I don't know," Lexa said. "Maybe. Probably. But..."

"But...?" Clarke prompted.

"But sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast," Lexa said.

* * *

Luna woke to the sound of hushed voices and the realization that she'd slept through the night without once having to claw her way out of a nightmare and back into the slightly lesser darkness of reality. She could feel Lexa's shoulder digging into her back a little, but she didn't mind it. If anything, it reminded her of when they were kids, all gangly limbs and awkward angles, constantly knocking knees and elbows as they fought over the blankets and just about everything else, though only in play. When push came to shove – no pun intended – they were back-to-back together, always.

Lexa twisted around to look at her, and Clarke's head popped up beside her. "Morning," Lexa said. 

"Morning," Luna replied, her voice still rough with sleep. She cleared her throat. "What time is it?"

"Still early," Lexa said. "We were just talking about breakfast."

Despite the wealth of food she'd consumed the day before, Luna's stomach gurgled in response to the suggestion, loud enough that all of them could hear. 

Clarke laughed. "I make a mean waffle, if you're interested. Or if my dad's up he can make pancakes."

"You can make waffles, but not pancakes?" Luna asked. "Aren't pancakes... easier?"

"You would think," Clarke said, her grin deepening, "and yet..."

"One of those mysteries of the universe," Lexa said. "I think there might even be some mini chocolate chips left over from last night."

"Ooh, sundae waffles," Clarke said. "Is that a thing? If it's not, I'm making it a thing."

Now that they were awake, it quickly became obvious that a full-size air mattress really wasn't meant to sleep three teenage girls, and after a few minutes of near-misses with giving each other black eyes, they got up, rolling up sleeping bags and gathering up pillows. They clambered down from the treehouse and trooped inside, where everything was still quiet. 

"They must not be up yet," Clarke said with a shrug. "Lucky for us, I've convinced them that I can be trusted not to burn the place down, so we don't have to wait."

Luna looked at her sidelong, not sure if it was a joke or not. She and Lexa had been cooking over open flame from the time they were seven or eight with little to no supervision; were normal kids really not trusted with standard kitchen implements as teenagers? She didn't say anything, though; she didn't want to possibly offend Clarke, and Lexa by proxy. 

While Clarke was heating up the waffle iron and mixing up the batter, she and Lexa assessed what was left from the night before and how much of it could reasonably be considered breakfast food without earning them a lecture. Lexa set out plates along the breakfast bar for them, then got out two more. "For Mr. Jake and Dr. Abby," she said. "They fed us yesterday."

"Kiss-ass," Luna said. Lexa took a swipe at her, and Luna dodged, then lunged after her.

"Hey!" Clarke hissed. "Not in the kitchen!" 

"Sorry, Clarke," Lexa said, going over to wrap her arm around her girlfriend's waist and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Clarke turned her head to return it, and Luna looked down, letting them have their moment. She ignored the strange feeling in her chest and the pit of her stomach, which wasn't jealousy, exactly, because to her that implied that she wanted what one of them had, specifically, and that wasn't it. Envy? Was that the same thing? 

She didn't want either of them, not like that, but she wanted that kind of connection with someone, someday. And more than that, she wanted...

"Luna?" She looked up, and saw Lexa frowning at her. Had Lexa said her name more than once? 

"What?" she asked, the word sharper than she meant it to be, but hopefully not enough to make Lexa ask questions. 

"Do you want chocolate chips in your waffle, or are you just going to put them on top of it?" Clarke asked. "I'm kind of worried they'll melt onto the waffle iron."

"I'll just put them on top," Luna said. 

"Okay." Clarke turned back to what she was doing. Lexa's gaze lingered a little longer, searching Luna's face for answers to questions she didn't ask. Luna just looked back at her, and after a moment Lexa looked away, conceding defeat or maybe not realizing they'd been having a contest in the first place. 

The Griffins got up just as they were digging into their waffles, and her mother groaned when she saw what they were eating. She went to the fridge and grabbed a carton of eggs. Jake already had a skillet on the stove when she got back. "You're at least having some protein with all that sugar," she said, waiting for the pan to heat to scramble some eggs. 

"I made some for you, too," Clarke said. "So you're not allowed to be mad."

Abby rolled her eyes, and Jake winked, and it was all so... sitcom it made Luna want to play some canned laughter, or maybe crawl out of her skin and run away. But when eggs were unceremoniously dumped on her plate without asking, just as they had been on Clarke's and Lexa's, there was a little part of her that wanted to grab on to the normalcy of it all and not let go.

She stayed until it was almost time for her ride to pick her up, and when she and Lexa headed for the door, they were stopped by Clarke's dad, who hugged them both and thanked them for their help the day before. "It was so nice meeting you and getting to know you a little better," he told Luna. "I hope we see you again soon."

Luna's throat clogged with words, but they jammed in so tightly not a single one made it onto her tongue. She just nodded and forced a smile. Clarke followed them out onto the porch, and Luna accepted the hug she offered, too, leaning into it maybe a little too hard and holding a little too tight. Clarke didn't seem to mind. 

"We'll see you soon," Clarke said, and she sounded so sure of herself. Luna wished she could believe in anything as much as Clarke seemed to believe every word she said. 

They crossed the street and waited on the front porch for Rosie's car to pull up, Luna's arm around Lexa's shoulders and Lexa's around her waist. When Rosie turned the corner, they looked at each other, and pretended they didn't see the tears welling in each other's eyes. They didn't even manage to say goodbye, because if they'd said anything at all they might both have shattered. Lexa's fingertips hooked hers, curling tighter even as they both stepped back, one foot after another until their arms were extended and their grip faltered. 

Luna climbed into the car, shoving her bag at her feet.

"Everything okay?" Rosie asked. Luna nodded, and motioned for her to drive. "Okay then." 

The drive was a blur, as was the day that followed. Luna kept to herself to stay out of trouble; in the wake of the holiday everyone seemed to be extra cranky, and Luna knew she was still treading on thin ice. One wrong step and she might break through and lose everything. 

Rosie came back later for the evening shift, and when she poked her head in to check on Luna she was sprawled facedown on her bed, one hand tangled in the chain around her neck, the other clutching a drawing that she'd discovered in her bag when she'd finally unpacked. It was of her and Lexa, side by side on a picnic blanket, looking totally calm and at peace. Clarke must have drawn it, but Luna didn't remember seeing her do it. 

"Hey," Rosie said, coming over and sitting on her roommate's unoccupied bed. "I heard you've been holed up pretty much all day. You want to talk about it?"

Luna started to shake her head, then stopped. Instead, she showed Rosie the picture. 

"Wow," she said. "This is really good." 

Luna nodded and took a deep breath, clearing her throat and with it the jam of words that had been building up since that morning. "I want a home," she said. "I want a family. Not when I'm older. Now. I want to get to be a fucking kid, even if it's only for a little while. _That's_ what I want."


	4. Chapter 4

Lexa thought about heading straight back to Clarke's house – to Clarke – but realized she should probably let Miss Becca – Mom (would she ever get used to thinking of her that way?) – know that she was off the hook for being responsible for Luna, so she went around to the back where she could hear the kids playing.

"Hey," she said, shielding her eyes against the sun as she climbed up onto the deck. "Luna's gone."

Miss Becca looked up in surprise, then glanced at her watch. "I guess it _is_ that time already," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye." A frown formed between her brows. "Is everything all right?"

Lexa shrugged, her teeth digging into the inside of her cheek, her nails carving crescents into her palms. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to talk about it. Not yet, anyway. After a second, she asked, "Can we talk about it later?"

"Of course," Miss Becca said, the frown smoothing away but concern still in her eyes. "Maybe tonight after the little ones are in bed?"

"Yeah," Lexa said, "maybe." 

"The Griffins will probably need a break by then," Miss Becca added, which was her subtle way of saying that Lexa wouldn't be sleeping over there tonight, so she needn't bother asking. Lexa had kind of figured that out already. 

"Can I go back over there now?" she asked. 

"Be back for dinner," Miss Becca said. 

"Yes ma'am," Lexa replied, the words just slipping out. Miss Becca looked at her, lines not from smiling carving themselves in her face again, but she didn't say anything, and Lexa took it as permission to leave. She jogged back across the road and into the Griffins back yard, where Clarke and her father were going around making sure that any stray napkins and cups and whatever else was cleaned up from the night before. Lexa joined them without being asked; she'd been close enough to a part of the household for so long that whatever chores Clarke was expected to do, she considered her responsibility as well.

When they were done, Mr. Jake went inside (to sleep off the sugar crash after this morning's breakfast, he said) and she and Clarke climbed up to their treehouse. They realized they'd never pulled the plug on the air mattress to let it deflate, and there was nothing stopping them from doing all the things that they'd wanted to do that morning but couldn't...

* * *

Clarke's lips brushing against Lexa's temple where tears soaked into her hair only made them fall faster, and they clung to each other, skin sweat-slick, loose-limbed and still shaking. They kissed salt from each other's mouths, sucked musk from each other's tongues, and for a few moments it felt as though their hearts and lungs fell entirely in synch before they became two separate people again. 

"I love you," Lexa whispered against Clarke's cheek. 

"Of course you do," Clarke whispered back, her lips shaping into a smile at the laugh that forced its way up from somewhere around Lexa's heart. "I love you," she added. 

"I know," Lexa said. She burrowed her face into Clarke's neck, feeling her pulse beneath her lips and the way it slowly eased back into a resting rhythm. She would never be a doctor; she had no desire to be. But she had made a study of the workings of Clarke's heart for years, and she thought she knew it, maybe better than her own. 

Clarke's hand brushed her breast, sending a shiver through her and goosebumps racing down her body before it came to rest over her heart, a finger extending out to catch the chain that hung around her neck, drawing the moonstone pendant – the gibbous moon, according to Luna, but most people mistook it for a rain drop... or a tear drop – back to its place just below the hollow of her throat. 

"You know what you have to do," Clarke said. 

"It's not up to me," Lexa said. "I can want it, but that doesn't mean it will happen."

"I know," Clarke said, although Lexa wasn't sure that she did. Not really. Anya would understand, but would she agree? Lexa pushed the thought aside for now. "But you have to try, right?" She tilted her head back to look Lexa in the eye. "You want to try, right?"

"Yes," Lexa said, "but..." She waited for Clarke to cut her off, to tell her that there were no buts, that there were no excuses, no reasons why they – she – shouldn't try to make the impossible possible for her first and best friend, the sister of her soul if not her blood. 

Except Clarke stayed quiet, waiting for her to finish, until the silence stretched too long and snapped. "But?"

"I don't want anything to change," Lexa said quietly. "It's selfish, I know, because... because I should want her to have what I have. I _do_ want her to have what I have. And the only way to make that happen is to share it. But it will change things. For me. For us."

"Why would it change things for us?" Clarke asked. "We have other friends, people we spend time with other than each other, sometimes together and sometimes apart, right? It might be a little different having one of them living with you, but Anya used to live with you, and it seemed like you managed that all right."

"That was different," Lexa said. "Anya was my sister, not my friend. Luna's my sister, too, in all the ways that matter, but..." She frowned, trying to find the words to explain why it was different. "Anya never needed me," she finally said. "I need her, but she didn't need me. Luna does." 

"So maybe we have a little less time together," Clarke said, "or a little less time that it's just the two of us. So what? We'll just make better use of the time that we do have." She brushed her nose against Lexa's, their foreheads pressing together. "Things are always changing," she said. "We can't stop it or control it. We can only control how we react to it. I know you know that. And I know that you're better at adapting to changes than probably anyone else I know. Better than you give yourself credit for. I'm betting that Luna is just as good, if not better."

"Not better," Lexa said, the corner of her mouth tipping up. She knew that Clarke was right, and that with her history of being bounced from house to house, never having the stability of a place to truly call home and people to call family, Luna almost certainly _was_ better than Lexa at navigating a shifting landscape, rolling with the punches and coming up still fighting, but it was old habit to never admit when she was beat, _especially_ by Luna.

Clarke let out a breath, almost a laugh. "Right. Of course not." She pressed the pendant, so the edges dug into Lexa's skin just a little. "If she's here, things will change. If she's not here, things will still change. For both of you. But if she's here—"

"At least I'll know that things are changing for her for the better," Lexa finished for her. "And it's up to me how I let it change things for me."

Clarke nodded. "So you know what you have to do." She kissed Lexa softly. 

"Thank you," Lexa said. 

"For what?" Clarke asked. "For telling you what you already knew?"

"For making me believe it," Lexa said. 

This time Clarke kissed her not so softly, and Lexa moaned and tightened her arms around her, pulling their bodies together again.

* * *

When she finally went home, Lexa headed straight for the shower. She passed Murphy in the hall and he looked at her sidelong, his usual scowl shifting into a smirk. Under normal circumstances it would have irritated Lexa, but she was still so steeped in the afterglow of an afternoon spent testing the limits of how much pleasure a body could withstand before it became too much (and she ached in all the best ways) that nothing could bring her down. Not Murphy, not discovering that someone had used the last of her favorite shower gel, not having a cup of milk spilled into her lap, not the littles bickering over who had knocked it over. Nothing.

She was still feeling better than good when Miss Becca finally came downstairs after putting the kids to bed, and she wrapped herself in that feeling to insulate herself against the possibility of this conversation going any way but how she wanted it to. 

"You look like you're feeling better," Miss Becca said, sitting in her usual place on the couch. Lexa had curled herself up at the other end. 

"I am," Lexa said. 

"Glad to hear it." Miss Becca studied her for a moment, turning to face her more fully. "I assume since you're down here, you still want to talk?"

Lexa nodded. "It's about Luna." A nod from Miss Becca told her this wasn't a surprise. "I know there's a lot of things that are hard to control, a lot of pieces to the puzzle, a lot of people that—" Lexa stopped. Pointing out all of the obstacles wasn't the right place to start. She took a breath, started again. "I wanted to ask you if you would consider letting Luna come stay here. Permanently." 

Lexa didn't let herself look away from her mother's face; she didn't want to miss whatever emotions she might let past the mask she'd probably spent years perfecting. It wasn't that Miss Becca never showed emotion, but she had to be careful about what she let slip through, because the wrong thing at the wrong moment with the wrong kid could spell disaster. 

There wasn't much to see, but she didn't immediately shake her head, and that was something, wasn't it? The lack of an instant no was one hurdle cleared, even if it was maybe a fairly low one. 

"You're right," Miss Becca said after a moment's pause. "There are a lot of things that are out of my control, a lot of moving parts and people who need to agree. There are also rules about how many children I can have at one time, and right now I'm at capacity. So—"

"It's all right," Lexa said, unfolding her legs to get up. 

"Hold on," Miss Becca said. "What I was going to say was that someone would have to leave before I could petition to take her in. That being said, I'm sure you've noticed that Aaron has been going on a lot of visits with his mom lately." Lexa nodded. She had also noticed that he was always extra cranky when he came back, crossing his arms and stomping he feet and telling Miss Becca that she wasn't his real mom and she wasn't the boss of him. "Things have been going very well; she has a steady job and found a place to live and hasn't missed a single visit. Everything the courts have asked of her, she's done. Aaron hates leaving her, and it's very likely that he will be placed back in her custody within the next couple of weeks. Which means there will be an empty bed here, so to speak."

"Which means..." Lexa licked her lip. "Which means there would be space for Luna."

"Which means there would be space for Luna," Miss Becca agreed. "But that's not a guarantee."

"I know," Lexa said. "But it's a chance."

"Is it what Luna wants?" Miss Becca asked. "I know her placement isn't permanent, but it's stable, and from what I've been told, she's doing well there."

"I didn't ask her," Lexa said. "I didn't want to get her hopes up before talking to you. But the first time she was here, she was talking about how she never had anything like this, and... and doesn't she deserve to? I know we're not really kids anymore, but we're still in school for a few years and—"

"Of course she deserves to have a home to call her own," Miss Becca said. "Every child does." She looked at Lexa for a long moment. "I think you should ask her. Before I put things in motion that maybe aren't the right things for her."

Lexa nodded, and pulled her phone from her pocket. Before Miss Becca could protest that she hadn't meant to ask her right this second, she'd already sent a text.

**Lexa:** If there was a chance of you coming to stay here, to live here, would you want to?

Three dots appeared within seconds, then disappeared, then appeared again. Lexa held her breath until Luna's answer came through.

**Luna:** Yes.

She turned the screen to show Miss Becca, the lump in her throat too big to push words past. Miss Becca touched the edge of the screen to steady it; Lexa's hands were shaking so badly it would have been impossible to read otherwise.

"Okay," she said. "Don't make her any promises, but I'll start making calls tomorrow. I'll do everything I can." 

Lexa swallowed, then moved across the couch until she was close enough to touch her mother, to reach out and fall into her arms when they were opened and closed again with Lexa within them, and her fingers crumpled the back of her mother's shirt as they dug in, clinging. "Thank you," she mumbled. 

"It's a long way from being a done deal," Miss Becca reminded her.

"I know," Lexa repeated. "But thank you for being willing to try."

Miss Becca's fingers combed through her hair, smoothing it back from her face. "What can I say?" she said, and Lexa could hear the smile in her voice. "It's what parents do."


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks later Aaron's mother had her final court hearing, and as expected, she was granted full custody of Aaron. She came over to their house for dinner that night, and they had cake and ice cream and balloons and presents to celebrate his happy ending. 

Although she had never been much of an optimist, Lexa had dared to let herself think that things would be simple after that. Miss Becca would sign some papers, Luna's current foster people would sign some papers, a judge would sign some papers, and that would be it. After all, they ought to be thrilled that someone was stepping up and saying that they wanted Luna. Teenagers were notoriously hard to place; most foster parents didn't seem to want them. They were too damaged, too volatile, too willful, and what was the point of taking a kid in when they would just be leaving again in a few years? How were you supposed to bond with someone who was in a stage of life that was all about breaking away and asserting their independence? 

Or some such shit. 

A teenager with a troubled past was even more of a placement nightmare, but Miss Becca had her hand in the air, waving it around, saying, 'Pick me! Pick me!'... metaphorically speaking. She was the obvious solution to a tricky problem, and the fact that any of the factors in the equation were dragging their feet made no sense whatsoever. 

And yet.

Lexa pulled her knees up toward her chest, tucking herself on the stairs where she couldn't be seen, but could hear the conversation happening in the kitchen. She knew she shouldn't be eavesdropping, but it was Luna's life they were talking about, Luna's future, and she wasn't just going to sit in her room and patiently wait for the verdict to be handed down. If she couldn't be in the room where it happened, this was the next best thing.

"We just want to make sure that you understand what you're getting into," the woman – Lexa hadn't caught her name, but she assumed she was one of Luna's case workers, or a representative of the court, or something – said. 

"I do," Miss Becca said. "I've been told about both her past and current struggles, both by those who are currently working with her and by Luna herself." 

Lexa's heart skipped a beat. Luna had mentioned she'd talked to Miss Becca, but she hadn't given any details. Somehow it surprised Lexa that Luna had said anything; she didn't have eight scars on her shoulder because she gave up information easily. But then she'd been trying to protect them; now she was trying to protect herself. So maybe it was different. 

"I also have some experience with children who have gone through some of what Luna has been through, both generally and specifically. My daughter Lexa is one of the other children that were taken from the compound."

"Yes, of course. You've had her for..."

"Six years now," Miss Becca said. "Other than a short period where she was in protective custody during the trial of the perpetrators of the abuse that occurred there, she has lived here since she was originally put in the system. I adopted her last year." 

"I see. Even so, taking on a teenager – one who you haven't had the opportunity to raise yourself from a relatively young age – can be a very different proposition. And you already have two teenagers in your care. I worry that adding a third, especially one with Luna's specific needs—"

"What she _needs_ is a home," Miss Becca said. "What she needs is a family. What she needs is a chance to grow into herself without someone else telling her who that is, or who it ought to be. Luna's needs are the same as any child's needs, and I think that a large part of why she's in the situation she's in now is because every other person she has been put in the care of has assumed that that can't possibly be the case. They've treated her as if she's somehow different, alien, feral... whatever you want to call it. She's just a girl. An intelligent, resilient, empathetic, loyal, fierce young woman who will do anything for the people she cares about. It's time that she has a place with people who will do the same for her."

There was a long pause, like Miss Becca had stunned the other woman into silence. After a minute she cleared her throat. "I understand," she said. "And you believe that you can give her that."

"I can and I will," Miss Becca said. "So will her sister Lexa."

"She has – had – a brother, not—"

"You and I both know there is more to family than blood," Miss Becca said. "At least we ought to, considering." Lexa imagined her flashing a genuine, but maybe just slightly condescending, smile. "Lexa and Luna grew up together. They are sisters in all the ways that really matter. They carry the same memories. Bear the same scars. I don't know if you've seen the footage of when they were taken, but—"

"I have."

"Good. Then you know that it wasn't her brother Sol that Luna was trying so hard to hold on to."

Lexa thought the woman said something, but it was too low and mumbled for her to pick out.

"Let her come home," Miss Becca said. "Let her be with the one person who truly understands where she came from, and with people who want to understand where she is now and help her figure out where she's going." A breath. "It's what Lexa wants. It's what I want. It's what _Luna_ wants. So why stand in the way?" 

Another silence, this one stretching even longer, and Lexa's lungs burned from holding her breath, afraid that she might miss something that was said. Finally, the woman said, "There's just a few more forms to fill out," and Lexa let out a sigh, then clamped her hand over her mouth because it had been louder than she'd expected. 

"Are you sure?" the woman asked a minute later. 

"I'm sure," Miss Becca said. "I want her to know this isn't temporary, that I'm not going to send her packing the minute she puts a toe out of line. She's been through enough. I want her to know this is the last stop. I want her to know she's home."

"I'll file everything tomorrow and we'll set up a review ASAP. If you have any questions, please let us know. Otherwise, we'll follow up with you as soon as we have a decision."

"Thank you," Miss Becca said. Chairs scraped across the floor, and Lexa bolted to the top of the stairs as quietly as possible, crouching in the darkness at the top because opening her bedroom door would give away the fact that she hadn't been in it. 

When the woman was gone, Lexa heard Miss Becca's footsteps pause at the bottom of the stairs. "You can come out now," she said.

Lexa could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she straightened and made her way down the stairs toward her mother, expecting to be chastised for eavesdropping. Instead, Miss Becca just pulled her into a hug. 

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"Everything," Lexa said. "Pretty much."

Miss Becca nodded. "It's all right," she said. "I would have included you if I'd thought it would help. You're as invested in this as I am." She brushed back a stray curl at Lexa's temple where it had frizzed from the July heat and humidity. 

Lexa dug her teeth into the inside of her lip, then blurted, "What was she asking about, at the end when she asked if you were sure?" Lexa thought she knew, or suspected, but she wanted to hear it from Becca herself. She didn't want to assume, and have it come back and bit her in the ass.

"One of the questions on the form is whether you are applying just to foster or foster to adopt. I marked the latter. As I said to her, Luna's been through enough. She deserves a family to call her own, if it's what she wants. Not just for now but forever." She looked at Lexa. "I know I didn't ask, but I didn't think you would disagree."

"No ma— Mom," Lexa said, standing tall and holding her ground this time, even as her muscles twitched with the urge to flee. "I don't."

Miss Becca smiled and hugged her again, tight, and Lexa leaned in and hugged her back. "Good. Then we'll keep our fingers crossed that the powers that be can be made to see sense, sooner rather than later, so our girl can come home."

* * *

"Whatever you do, don't strain yourself over there," Clarke teased, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist and realizing belatedly that she had a drip of paint on it... so now she had paint all over her face, too. 

"You told me not to help!" Lexa protested. "I did the base coats!"

Clarke grinned. "And you did a fine job," she said, in the tone of voice an adult might use to placate a toddler and reassure them that their contribution had been helpful, really. 

Lexa stuck out her tongue. "Anyway, I'm looking at sheets and stuff, trying to decide what to get."

"Doesn't Miss Becca have spare sheets?" Clarke asked. "I mean, with this many kids and this many beds..."

"Yes," Lexa said, "but I want Luna to have her own. She never has before. Everything was always communal, and then it belonged to whoever she was living with, and she didn't get to take it with her."

Clarke blinked, trying to process the idea of never having anything – except clothing, she guessed – to call your own. She didn't even know what it was like to share a _room_ , much less everything else. She shared things with Lexa, but that has always been entirely by choice. "Did you find anything good?"

Lexa shrugged. "A few things, but I want to actually go to the store and see them. Anya said she'll take me when she's off work, but only if I drive."

"She trusts you to drive your car?" Clarke asked. She had been more than a little jealous when Lexa had gone to the DMV to take her test and get her learner's permit; Clarke didn't turn sixteen until October. Lexa hadn't actually seemed too excited about it, but the prospect of having a little more freedom (but not much, considering how many restrictions there were on drivers under 18) finally convinced her.

"I think maybe she's hoping I'll crash it and she can get the insurance money and get something better," Lexa said. 

"You better not," Clarke said. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I don't think it would take more than a minor fender-bender to total that thing. It's as old as we are." 

Clarke laughed, but she was still cringing at the thought of anything happening to Lexa. But Lexa was a good driver, for someone who had been on the roads for less than two months. 

"Do you think you'll finish today?" Lexa asked. 

"Today or tomorrow," Clarke said, leaning back and scanning the wall. She'd been excited when Lexa had come up with the idea to paint a mural in the room she would soon be sharing with Luna, and now that she was almost finished, she was even more excited to see Luna's reaction. It had taken a little fast-talking to convince Miss Becca it was a good idea, but she'd softened when Clarke had said she would pay for all the of the paint herself. 'I might even be able to get extra credit for it in my art class in the fall,' she'd added, to sweeten the deal, and Miss Becca had caved. 

"It looks amazing," Lexa said, coming over and kneeling beside Clarke, heedless of the drips and smears as she kissed her. A smudge of turquoise rubbed off on her nose, and Clarke's stomach fluttered. " _You're_ amazing," Lexa added, her voice slipping into that soft, slightly hoarse tone that nine times out of ten had someone's pants around their ankles inside ten minutes. 

"Don't distract me," Clarke said, poking Lexa's nose and leaving behind a dab of white. "Not if you want this done." 

Lexa's face scrunched up like she was weighing what she wanted more – a finished painting or Clarke – but in the end she groaned and backed off. "Anya will be here soon anyway," she said. "Miss Becca already said you can keep working while I'm out, and you can stay for dinner if you want to. She figures she probably owes you at least one meal, considering how many your parents have fed me." 

Clarke tipped her head. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked. She'd never actually had dinner with Lexa and her family; Lexa claimed she was better off. 

Lexa pressed her lips together, then nodded. "It's barely controlled chaos, but... it's mine."

"Then I'll stay," Clarke said, stealing one more kiss before getting back to work. A few minutes later Anya honked from the driveway, and Lexa planted a kiss on her head on her way past, shutting the door firmly behind her so none of the younger kids – or Murphy, for that matter – got any ideas about barging in and wreaking havoc on the work in progress. Not that Clarke would have let them, but it was probably habit by this point. 

Clarke had just put her brush down and was standing back to admire her own work when Lexa got home. She stopped and stared, first at the wall and then at Clarke, then back at the wall again. She'd seen it in every stage since they'd started, but somehow seeing the completed product was more than the sum of its parts. Clarke thought this might be her second favorite piece she'd ever done, after the project from art camp last summer. 

"It's perfect," Lexa said finally. "It's absolutely perfect."

"You think she'll like it?" Clarke asked. 

"I think she'll love it," Lexa answered. She set down the bags she was carrying and pulled Clarke into her, bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss that had Clarke stumbling (not entirely unintentionally) back toward Lexa's bed. She knew that there were other people in the house, that they might get called down to dinner any moment, but this was the first – and last – chance they would have...

There was something to be said for having to be quick and quiet Clarke decided as they crowded in front of the bathroom mirror, making sure that any stray streaks of paint were scrubbed from their faces. Her knees were still a little wobbly, and she couldn't keep the grin off her face. A quick glance at Lexa in the mirror started them both giggling, and they barely managed to get themselves together before one of the kids called up that it was time for dinner. They sat side-by-side, which made it harder to make eye contact, which was probably for the best, because Clarke didn't know if she would be able to keep her composure if she caught Lexa's eye again.

"Believe it or not," Miss Becca said when the meal was over, "they were on their best behavior for you." 

Clarke laughed. "I'm... honored?"

"'Grateful' is the word you're looking for," Lexa said. "You didn't actually end up wearing anyone else's food."

"No," Clarke said. "Only paint."

Lexa nearly choked, and quickly gathered up the dishes and took them to the sink, turning on the faucet full blast so the sound would cover up her stifled laughter. 

Miss Becca raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, which was probably – no, definitely – for the best.

* * *

"You're ready for this," Rosie said as she put the car in park in front of Lexa's house... which was now Luna's house, too, but she knew it would take a while to think of it that way. "Today is the first day of the rest of your life, and all of those clichés. Just keep reminding yourself that this time it's different."

"How?" Luna asked, then shook her head. She knew how. This wasn't just something that was happening to her. This wasn't just a place where she was being dumped, where the people inside didn't want her and would be looking for an excuse to get rid of her as soon as she set foot inside the door. She'd chosen this. Lexa had chosen this. Miss Becca had chosen this. Chosen _her_. 

"You've got this," Rosie said. "Look, there's your sister."

Luna's heart (and throat) swelled at the word. She'd used it once to refer to Lexa, and Rosie had latched on to it, repeating it until it felt real, and true, which it had been once and now – she hoped – would be again. She turned and saw Lexa jogging across the lawn, Clarke a few steps behind like she wasn't sure whether she ought to be following. 

Lexa came around to Luna's side of the car, and Luna took a deep breath and climbed out. For the space of a single held breath, they just looked at each other, and then their bodies collided and it was that first hug all over again, ribs creaking and air pressed from lungs, until the need for oxygen became overwhelming and they took half a step back from each other. 

"You're here," Lexa said. "Finally."

"Finally," Luna echoed. She reached into the back seat for the big duffel bag that held everything she owned, glad that she had at least been spared the indignity of having it all shoved into garbage bags. She looked up and saw Miss Becca in the doorway, using her body to block the little ones from making a break for it. She waved, and Luna lifted a hand in answer. 

"Welcome home," Miss Becca said as Luna climbed the steps. "You already know where your room is, if you want to go up and take some time to get settled. I'm sure there's paperwork I need to sign. I'll introduce you to everyone when you're ready." 

Luna nodded, and glanced back at Lexa, who was just behind her. "Do you mind if Clarke comes up too?" Lexa asked. "She helped me with something for you and—"

"She can come up," Luna said. "'Whither thou goest, so shall Clarke go.'" 

Lexa laughed. "Something like that." She slipped past Luna to precede her up the stairs and stopped at her – their – bedroom door. "Close your eyes," she said. "No peeking."

"I hate surprises," Luna said. 

"You'll like this one," Lexa said, and she sounded so sure that Luna had to believe her. She closed her eyes dutifully and heard the door open. Clarke's hand rested lightly on her back, guiding her through, and she could feel one of them on either side of her as they moved her into position, their fingers brushing her arms and their shoulders pressed into hers. 

"Okay," Lexa said. "You can look now."

Luna let out a breath and opened her eyes... and found herself staring at the sea. Waves crashed across the walls, breaking against a beach dotted with sea shells, grass-covered dunes off in the distance. Her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to take it all in, until they filled with tears and she couldn't see anything anymore.

"You said if you could live anywhere, you would live by the ocean," Lexa said softly, her arm slipping around Luna's waist. "We couldn't do that, so we did the next best thing. We brought the ocean to you." 

Luna looked at her, then at Clarke, and pulled them both to her. She pressed her face into Lexa's shoulder and let the tears fall, all the ones she'd never cried when they were ten and lost each other, and all the ones she hadn't cried when she'd lost one home after another after another, and all of the ones she hadn't cried when she'd lost Sol. She let them all go, and Lexa held her and Clarke did too, and she let that fill up the empty spaces that the tears left behind. 

She'd lost so much, had her heart shattered and scattered, but as she lifted her head and saw again her dream painted into being, she could feel some of the pieces falling back into place and she knew this was where she belonged, and these were the people she was meant to be with. 

She was ready for this. 

She was home.


End file.
